Russian Revolution
by JMHB
Summary: Bella just stepped off the boat from Russia in New York, New York. Her destination: Chicago. Her companion: a small blonde boy and a kind doctor named Dr. Cullen. The year: 1917. They find: Read and Review. AU BxE
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the research. All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. It's simply a might too bad, really._**

As Arabella Sven stepped off the ship in New York, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride, desperation, happiness, fear, and a bit lonely. She had spent the last four months attempting to get to the United States of America, from her mother country of Russia. Both her parents had long been gone, her father was murdered by soldiers on March 11, 1917, during a riot. Her mother had disappeared three days prior, on March 8, during the bread riots in Petrograd. Arabella had spent three months hiding in a small bunker outside of Moscow, sneaking out during the night and stealing what food she could get her hands on, taking money off the ground, and attempting to hitch a ride on one of the sacrad ships to America. Finally, after three starving months, she was able to barter for an one-way ticket to the great land of oppurtunity, America.

By the time the ship docked in New York, Arabella had seven dollars in her coat pocket, the clothes she was wearing, and the small cap that she saw on deck when she woke up in the morning, and nothing else. How she was going to make it anywhere past the end of the ships' steps, she didn't know.

Arabella watched as a young boy, maybe six or seven in age, pushed past her and down the long plank to the first checkpoint. He stood with his head held high, his back ramrod straight, and his hands clenched in determination. He had on an oversized cap smashed in his hair, which was dirty blonde. His ears were large and poked out, giving him a look of animation. His face was clearly freckled, and his skin was light under the spots. He wore a tattered child's suit, a double-brested grey vest and matching wool pants.

Arabella continued to keep an eye on the boy as he found his way around the checkpoints the Americans had set up to greet the ship. She watched as an American man prodded him firmly in the gut, made a mark on the bright yellow piece of paper he was carrying, and send him to the next checkpoint, where another American man grabbed his jaw and started looking at his mouth. It didn't take long for that man to grab the young boy's yellow card and make a mark, a slightly disgusted look on his face.

The small boy continued through each of the checkpoints, and Arabella followed him ardiously.

"Card." A large American man said to Arabella as she stepped up to the first checkpoint, attempting to keep the small boy in her line of sight.

"Isemheisem meniah*?" Arabella said quietly. The man had thick black hair, which fell just below his ears. The twisted curls fell into his face, and he kept swiping his hand across his forehead to get them out of his eyes, which were darker than his hair. His skin was tanned by the sun, and his body was sharp.

"Card." The man held out his hand impatiently. They were tanned and calloused, stripped of any vanity by work. _Swipe._

"Ye chovaline, ye nah poniman.*" Arabella said, shaking her head.

"Card- for Christ's sake!" _Swipe._ The man grabbed the yellow card from Arabella's hand and held it up for her to see. "Card." he said slowly, drawing the word until it was worth twice it's original length, and waving the item violently in Arabella's face. "Do you understand?" Arabella nodded.

The man made a mark on the yellow card and handed it back to Arabella.

"Now, you want to go to the next place and..." The man trailed off. _Swipe._ "You don't understand a word I am saying, do you?"

"I speek leetle Eenglish." Arabella said, bowing her head in the attempt to say the correct words. Her thick, brown hair fell, obscuring her face from obvious view. Each strand was matted with dirt and grime, the consolation for a three month boat trip, along with living in the streets for so long. Arabella's skin was dirty as well. Her face was splotchy with mud, her hands were caked in dirt, and there was a prominent smell coming from her skin.

"Obviously." The man muttered under his breath. "Here," he said, shoving the yellow card into Arabella's hand, "Take this and go over there." He pointed to the next station where the young boy had just been prodded in the stomach. "When the man asks for your card," Arabella held up the yellow card, "Yes, when he asks for the card, give him that." The man pointed to her card. Arabella smiled, nodded, and stood in place.

"Over there." The man said, pushing Arabella in the correct direction. _Swipe._

Arabella walked to the place where the man had pointed, and she stood in line until she was right in front of another man. This man had beautiful blonde hair and piercing golden eyes. His skin was attractively pale, almost as pale as his white coat, and he smiled kindly as Arabella stared at him.

"Hello, dear." The blonde man said kindly. "My name is Doctor Cullen. I'm going to examine you quickly to make sure that you're not bringing any deadly disease into the country." Arabella nodded, smiling slightly. Doctor Cullen's voice was very calming. "What's your name?" Doctor Cullen asked Arabella as he pulled back her eyelids.

Arabella had learned many cautionary phrases of English before boarding the ship. She knew the phrases like, "I speak little English," and "Where do I go?" but also "What is your name?" and "Do you need help?"

"I am name Arabella." She said, pointing to her chest to emphasize her comment.

"Well, Arabella, I'm sure you're quite overwhelmed, with all the new sights and nonsense. Are your parents with you?" Doctor Carlisle said. Arabella looked at Doctor Cullen.

"I speek leetle Eenglish." she said.

"Your parents... Uhm, 'Geduh, vashul ideasitity?'*" Doctor Cullen said.

"Dead." That was one word she had known for a long time.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so the Russian characters don't properly transfer into fanfiction(dot)net, I dunno if it's my computer or the website. So I did my best with the pronounciation of the words, and I've included the actual Russian on my profile. The translations are just below.**

_Isemheisem meniah?_ means _Excuse me?_

_Ye chovaline, ye nah poniman._ means _I am sorry, I do not understand._

_Geduh, vashul ideasitity?_ means_ Where are your parents?_

**So, if that's horridly incorrect (I can read and write Russian quite well for only using Rosetta Stone for two months...two months ago, but as far as speaking, hearing and understanding... not so much) please don't hate me horribly. I didn't know how else to do it.**

**Anyways, I think asking for reviews is a good idea. I'd really like to have a few reviews before I post the next chapter, so I know if people like this or not... it's so hard to gague what sort of story is interesting! lol. Okay, so please please please let me know what you think of this idea, send me a review (and add me to author/story alerts! heehee) please please, because apparently I'm not above begging for reviews. And this is my first fanfiction, so I'm extremely nervous about what everyone will think!**

**Oh, and please please please check out my beta's (and good friend) fanfiction stuff. Her penname is ***BROKENTOPAZ.*** She's on leave right now with some serious family issues, but she's got a good story called **_The Pact_** and I know she'd love a review or two even though she won't be updating soon, and a lot of great oneshots as well! It's Twilight, except for a couple oneshots. **

**So yeah, thanks so much for reading the prologue of my story and please let me know what you think!**

**Love,**

**JMHB**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!! I can't even stick to a schedule for one week!! Ugh! Well, in my defense, my computer was all screwy yesterday, so I fixed it and now I update!! I hope you guys enjoy this! And please do excuse the length. I'm still new at the whole fanfiction thing! (:**

**_DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE TWILIGHT CHARACTERS. THEY BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER, NOT ME. SAD..._**

Doctor Cullen nodded, and continued to examine Arabella in silence. When he prodded her stomach, she winced. Based on the actual place he poked her, Doctor Cullen made a note that she was suffering from a serious lack of food. To confirm this diagnosis, he ran his hands along her ribs, and counted every one.

"Arabella, may I please see your yellow card?" Doctor Cullen asked kindly. As Arabella heard the word 'card', her eyes lit up and she handed the doctor the yellow card she was grasping firmly in her right hand. Doctor Cullen made a mark on it, handed it back to her and gently pushed her in the direction of the next checking station.

Arabella continued through each check point with some difficulty, the language barrier was serving a real problem. The fact that the words 'actuary' and 'bakery' were not the same thing was something that didn't dawn on Arabella until a bit too late.

"Insurance is a difficult business. The fact is that everyone needs it, but not everyone is willing to purchase it. The basic way to counter this is by convincing individuals who do not have insurance..."

"The common mistake of everyone in America is the idea that here, you are free to be lazy. If you are worthless, we'll kick you out again..."

"In New York, it will be crucial that you attempt to find work quickly. As soon as you find a job, you must find a place to stay. It is easiest if your apartment or house is close to your work due to the nature of travel..."

"The American Dream is the greatest dream ever. Anyone in the United States can get a job, anyone can work, and therefore anyone can make money. Once you make money, then you have accomplished the first part of the American Dream. The second part..."

Arabella heard the voices swirling around her, and she couldn't pin down a single one or figure out what any of it meant.

"Name." A tired voice rasped. Arabella looked toward the person who spoke. The woman was dragging on a cigarette, and standing with preferance to her left side, with one hand on her hip that jutted out from her frame. Her hair was in a tight bun, though there were some tendrils that had escaped.

"Name." The woman spoke again, not sighing or changing her inflection or tone at all.

"Arabella Sven." Arabella said confidently.

"Isabella Swan." The woman said.

"Nyet," Arabella said quickly. "Arabella Sven." She corrected the tired woman.

"Well, from now on, it's Isabella Swan. Got it?" The tired woman snapped. Arabella stared for a moment, wondering if she could reason with the woman. Her name had been given to her by her mother. Her grandmother on her mother's side was named Arabella. It was a family name, it was important. And Sven wasn't the best name in the world, but it was hers now, with the rest of her family gone.

Instead of protesting, Arabella... _Isabella_ nodded in defeat and went to the next checking station, tears streaming down her face.

"What's the matter?" A very quiet voice whispered in Ara-Isabella's ear. The Russian was so welcome that Ara-Isabella hardly noticed it at all.

"I can't- that woman took my name away! She told me I am to be called 'Isabella Swan'!" Ara-Isabella sobbed.

"It's okay." The quiet voice said. Ara-Isabella felt a small, warm hand twist inside her own. "What was your other name?" The voice asked.

"Arabella Sven." Ara-Isabella sniffed. She wiped her face and looked down at the quiet voiced boy. It was the small blonde-haired boy that she had been observing earlier. His eyes were the most brillant blue, and his face was as dirty as her own. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "What is your name?"

"James." The blonde boy said coldly. "Now," he added, clearly annoyed.

"Oh." Ara-Isabella said quietly. "Well, do you think we should continue?" She asked. James nodded. Ara-Isabella squeezed James' hand and they both continued through the throng of people.

"Where are you going after this?" Ara-Isabella asked once she and James escaped the checking stations.

"Chicago." James said quickly, puffing out his chest. "My grandfather works there at a newspaper. He's going to give me a job."

"Oh." Ara-Isabella couldn't help but feel a little attached to James. He was adjusting rather well, accepting his new name quickly, and he had a plan of action, even though he looked no more than twelve years old. He even spoke with a little bit of English peppered into his sentences, like 'newspaper' and 'job'. "May I go with you?" Ara-Isabella asked suddenly. James looked at her, as if to size her up. However, he decided quickly and with enthusiasm.

"Sure, you can come to Chicago with me. How much money do you have? The train ticket to Chicago costs three dollars." James said excitedly.

"I have seven American dollars." Ara-Isabella said, counting her money from her coat pocket again to make sure it was all there.

"Oh. I'll pay for dinner, then, shall I?" James said quickly. "I have more than that."

"Are your parents with you, James?" Ara-Isabella asked suddenly. James shook his head.

"No, they died in the riots. My grandfather sent me the money that I have."

Ara-Isabella felt a sudden urge to take care of James, the desire much more potent than before.

"Let's us stick together, James, okay?" Ara-Isabella said suddenly, grasping James' hand in her own and giving it a hearty squeeze.

"Okay." James said quietly.

"Oh, now, that's not good enough!" Ara-Isabella said. "Let's us be like sister and brother, James!" Ara-Isabella spoke a little louder than before.

"Okay." James said.

"Not like that, James. Shout it!"

"No." Ara-Isabella's excitement popped quickly.

"Why not?" she asked quietly, bending down in front of James to look him in his blue eyes.

"I'm not... It is not right." James said quietly. "The man in the striped pants told us not to yell. He said that it is wrong." Ara-Isabella thought for a moment.

"James," she said, holding his chin up so he would look at her in the eye, "James, it is not wrong to be excited. Look at all these people." She gestured around the street where people were bustling from one place to another. "These people are happy to be in America. They know that America is a wonderful place. I bet you they go home every night and shout for happiness that they are in America."

"Well, at home--" James started.

"We don't have a home yet, James. America is our home. This is America, is it not?" Ara-Isabella said quickly.

"Yes."

"So this is our home now, is it not?" Ara-Isabella said.

"Yes."

"Then where else are we going to shout for happiness that we are in America?" Ara-Isabella said.

"I do not know." James whispered.

"So shout that you are happy to be in America." Ara-Isabella shouted.

"I am happy to be in America!" James shouted so loudly that the pigeons at the end of the street scattered in fear.

"Exactly." Ara-Isabella said smugly as she stood and led James down the street to get some food.

* * *

**A/N: What do you guys think? Is it okay? Is it horrible? I don't know what you think, so let me know in a review!**

**Check out my beta's stories, they're mostly Twilight, but there's some other stuff too. Her penname is ***BROKENTOPAZ*** and she is on extended leave from fanfiction(dot)net due to some personal stuff, but I know she'd love a review or two!!!**

**Oh, what else? Uhm... I know the chapters are a little short, but this is my first fanfiction EVER, so I'd like to work up to the amazing five-billion words per chapter. Sorry they're so small. As the story goes on, each chapter will get longer.**

**Please, please, Please, PLease, PLEase, PLEAse, PLEASe, PLEASE leave me a review! I'd love you forever and ever and probably give you a cookie or two... :) Right, guys. I'd love to hear from you. And remember, the more reviews I get, the sooner the next chapter will come! (And the more likely it will be to be longer, considering that reviews make me want to write more than no reviews...) So, serious-face. Please review. It really does make my day!!**

**So, thanks for reading Chapter 1 of my story and do please leave a review to let me know what you think.**

**Love, **

**JMHB**


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